May We Meet Again
by someday-makes-me-sad
Summary: A little drabble on Clarke dealing with Lexa's death, which I will never get over. Lexa Deserved Better!
_May we meet again._

And they do. Clarke doesn't believe in heaven, god, or even an afterlife. She's seen too much, done too much to believe that there is someone almighty who could prevent it. It would just make her angry. She's lost too much to hope she will see them again, only to be disappointed.

So she buries herself in work, fighting for peace, fighting for her people. Just like Lexa would have wanted her to. Like she knows Lexa would have done.

They get rid of Pike. They restore peace, but the relations between the 12 clans and its new addition will always be tense, and while the new commander is motivated to make peace, there's still a long way to go, and the crimes committed under chancellor Pike are not easily forgotten. But things will get better, Clarke is sure of that.

Days are ok, because she has something to do. If she's lucky, she's so tired in the evening that she falls asleep immediately. It's the nights that she dreads, and needs more than anything at the same time.

At night she gets to see Lexa again. She appears every night once Clarke is asleep, like clockwork. It's always a different situation, and Clarke isn't sure how many more times she can stand watching Lexa bleed out in front of her.

Sometimes, however, it's not the end, but the beginning she sees. She sees Lexa on her throne, teaching the commanders to be. She sees her turn towards her when looking for advice. She sees her smile that afternoon, right before everything went sideways.

She feels her skin against hers, her lips on her body.

She remembers her eyes, so hard when dealing with the clans, so soft when looking at Clarke. She remembers how her heart skipped a beat when Lexa walked in the room. She remembers how much she loved her.

She remembers Lexa, sees her, feels her, every night.

And then she wakes up, and it's all gone. And every morning, Clarke feels like she can't breathe. She's lost people before, but Lexa is different. With Lexa, she had finally felt like she found someone who understood her.

Lexa was the only one who saw Wanheda and Clarke, and loved both of them. Loved her for it. She had never seen blame, reproach or disgust in Lexa's eyes.

Clarke doesn't think she can live without Lexa in her dreams. She's grown so accustomed to seeing her every night, she doesn't believe she can live without them. Just like she's not sure if she can live without Lexa for the rest of her life.

And yet, she dreads nights, because all they are is a reminder. Of how Lexa died because of Titus' anger at Clarke. How she never told her how much she meant to her. How she never told her she saw Lexa and Heda as well, and how she loved both of them, no matter what.

How she never told Lexa she loved her.

So she tells her, every night. When Lexa appears, Clarke tells her she loves her. Sometimes, Lexa smiles, and kisses her. Her lips are always so soft, so Clarke answers with desperation and kisses her back with abandon. Sometimes, Lexa fades away before she can tell her. Sometimes she can't seem to understand her. Sometimes she's already dead.

Too often, Clarke does too little, too late. Just like she did in reality. She always does too little.

So every morning she wakes up sobbing, or screaming. Someone comes to check on her at first. But she can't stand to see people. After a while, once she screams at them enough, they leave her alone. They understand she needs her space in the morning.

Her mother tries to talk to her about her dreams. She tries to give her meds to help her sleep, but they make the dreams go away, so Clarke stops taking them.

Because even though the dreams hurt, and waking up kills, it's the only chance she has of seeing her.  
And Clarke doesn't think she can live without seeing Lexa. Even if it's just to see her die.

She doesn't think she can live without telling Lexa she loves her.

She doesn't think she can live with herself anyway.

So she decides to hope. She repeats it like a mantra.

 _In peace, may you leave the shore._

 _In love, may you find the next._

 _Safe passage on your travels until our final journey to the ground._

 _May we meet again_ _._

 _May we meet again._

It gets her through the days. It gets her through her life.


End file.
